


total eclipse (of the heart)

by bokutoma



Series: sylvix week 2020 [5]
Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, Mutual Pining, POV Felix Hugo Fraldarius, POV Sylvain Jose Gautier, Pining Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Sylvix Week (Fire Emblem)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:21:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26653603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bokutoma/pseuds/bokutoma
Summary: sylvain is the sun and felix is the moon. they meet for but a few moments every few years, and yet neither can seem to let the other go without a fight.sylvix week day 5: myths and legends / promises / training & sparring
Relationships: Felix Hugo Fraldarius/Sylvain Jose Gautier
Series: sylvix week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930645
Comments: 6
Kudos: 20
Collections: Sylvix Week 2020 Fic Collection





	total eclipse (of the heart)

**Author's Note:**

> unedited so i could churn this baby out today.
> 
> sorry for being obsessed with this dynamic

On nights like these, when the moon is full and ripe, Sylvain _wants_ so badly that he aches. It is his own doing, of course; if he did not shine on Felix, Felix would not shine. He is quiet like that, preferring to be unobtrusive, to do his work without anyone to bother him.

Even when the moon cannot be seen, though, people still love it, and Sylvain is no different. It is only he in his selfish desire that can do anything about it, however, so when the aching gets too much, when he erupts in spasms of heat and plasma, desperate, wanting, waiting, he shines.

Felix looks back at him every time, the fear naked on his face as his every flaw is exposed, but every time, Sylvain loves him more.

* * *

Felix does not know how to love.

Annette, ocean of emotion that she is, has a thousand little nuances to declare the minutia of her affections; when he seeks to pull the tides, she lets her waves lap playfully at his unseen hands. When her waters are fouled and Mercedes's hair runs thick with smog, they combine in a fury strong enough to level mountains.

Not that they would, of course; Dedue is a treasured friend of theirs. It's the _unnatural_ that is the cause for concern.

Sometimes, Felix wishes he could be among them. They exist in a quiet harmony together, trading shells and feathers and stones like it's as easy as breathing.

For them, maybe it is.

Even Ashe, amorphous as he is, has learned to express affection in the gentle butting of ram's horns, the sheathed claws of a cat.

Instead, he is in space, Ingrid an infrequent visitor, Dimitri his constant companion, and Sylvain always just out of reach.

Sometimes, in his lowest moments, when Sylvain shines on the world below, Felix wonders what it would be like to ruin the Earth, to total it so thoroughly that there would be no reason to look elsewhere.

It would destroy Felix too, but he's not sure he would mind.

It is Dimitri in his black, infinite wisdom that counsels him back to calm. They used to not get along, back when his unforgiving nothingness had claimed Glenn, but now Dimitri knows the words to say when Felix needs to hear them.

"I am, as you have always said, nothing," Dimitri whispers, his star-freckle shifting minutely against the black. "So nothing separates you and Sylvain."

Simpleton that he is, it always works.

Just once, though, he'd like to be able to shine back, to reflect the sun's own brilliance instead of highlighting the pockmarked, punched-out face of the moon.

* * *

It is a slow game of flirtation he plays, Sylvain who is and is of the sun. Where Felix rises, he sets, and they chase each other in what feels like a never-ending dance.

Sylvain knows the step, knows what's expected of him, but that doesn't mean he can't change a few along the way.

"Let's spar, you and I," he says, molten flame licking from his skin in a desperate bid to touch, touch, touch. "We can't do it in the traditional manner, but we could compete, you and I."

And Felix is always up for a challenge, treasured menace that he is. "So how would we measure our comparative strengths? And why not ask another body, one closer in stature and size?"

"Why, Felix," Sylvain whispers, his voice as soft and vast and the universe. "Don't you know you're the only one who can compete with me?"

And at that, Felix hides his face behind the earth and reddens so beautifully that Sylvain can make out the awed whispers of _"blood moon, blood moon"_ from ninety-three million miles away.

But he agrees, just as Sylvain had known he would, and the core of him is white-hot with anticipation, with desire.

They compete in worship. Between the two of them, Sylvain has always been the more popular, more likely to inspire devotion. He is tender, capricious, quick to anger, quick to forgive. The image his supplicants build is one of a full-feathered angel, a blossom in the midst of unbearable heat.

When summer comes and he burns too bright, when winter shrivels the heat of him until ghostly fingers struggle to tangle into upturned palms, they forget him.

Felix's dedicants are far more loyal.

It suits him, Sylvain thinks, to have such devoted followers. He is tireless even when tucked away in the vastness of space, and only a fool would reject his importance.

The earth is full of fools, so they follow Sylvain instead.

"You win this round, I suppose," Felix says as the months tick by and they are nearly close enough to touch. "Your congregation outnumbers mine ten to one."

"But their devotion to you outweighs anything mine can even hope to achieve."

"How can you be so certain?" Felix worries his lip between his teeth, traces a hollow scar on his cheek. "Everyone loves you, after all."

"Because I count myself among their number, of course."

Felix is facing him this time, so those on earth are not lucky enough to see the red that flushes his face and spreads down his chest, luminous and full, and Sylvain is so grateful that he can see it that he nearly cries, the tears welling in his eyes blue and scalding. "Say that to no one else. Swear it on your life."

"I swear it on my life and my death."

For the first time in millennia, Felix smiles, real and true.

* * *

The eclipse comes, and with it, Felix's chance to love as Sylvain deserves. Minutes should be as seconds to heavenly bodies as aged as the two of them, but he thrums with an anticipation impossible to put into words. Sylvain should feel wretchedly hot for how close he is, but there is a fire in him that burns just as brightly.

 _Three:_ the sun and the moon are often described as twins, opposites, entirely the same, and entirely different.

 _Two:_ Annette says they are so different that they come back around to being the same again. Mercedes is too polite to agree.

 _One:_ Dimitri says they have been in love for as long as he can remember, turning away from each other for hatred of themselves and yet so obvious that he could spot it on the other side of the galaxy.

 _Zero:_ in truth, they are not meant for each other, but they fit into each other all the same, their dynamic perfectly balanced.

On earth, the moon swallows the sun but for a flickering halo.

In space, Sylvain reaches out impossible, combustible hands to cup Felix's meteor-ravaged face, but it is Felix who leans in to press a hard kiss to his mouth.

 _Blood moon,_ Sylvain thinks as his eyes flutter back open, finally cooled down enough to think.

 _Totality,_ Felix's mind says, soft as a caress, as he heats up enough to finally do something about it.

"I love you," Sylvain says.

"Shut up," Felix replies, but he is smiling even as they part again.

**Author's Note:**

> twitter: @kingblaiddyd


End file.
